


Memories

by brighteye



Series: Hope [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighteye/pseuds/brighteye
Summary: “It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”― Rose Fitzgerald KennedyAngela's first Christmas with Overwatch.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Hope [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911919
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> While this is completely stand alone, this oneshot is also set in the Hope universe [obviously, it's in the series]. This would fall on the timeline somewhere between chapters 5 and 6 of Forging.

She was all alone in the infirmary. There were no injured to care for – a rare feat in and of itself, considering the nature of the organization she now worked for – and she had sent away all of the staff. While Angela had desks scattered throughout the research labs in the basement, she didn’t have one within the infirmary itself; none of the work she did here required a desk, after all. So, she had commandeered a desk towards the back that left her in plain view of the entrance.

Angela looked over the notes scattered across the desk. It looked haphazard and absolutely disastrous, but she knew where everything was. On the left were the various diagrams of her secret project – the one that she was hiding from _everyone_ so that the Commanders wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it – and on the right were the descriptions of various technologies she wanted to incorporate within this prototype.

This suit was meant to support her in combat, so it had to be lightweight enough for her to bear it for hours. It had to help her keep up with the faster, stronger agents that she wanted to work with, so she would need some sort of propulsion mechanism. Angela was under no illusions that she would somehow remain unhurt on the battlefield, so she _needed_ something that would allow her to mitigate or ignore wounds.

Angela had so many ideas for the perfect suit – but she had to start from scratch on many of the mechanisms and technologies used. She didn’t have time to wait for the perfect suit, so she was forced to compromise with herself. Angela had to get on the battlefield, _had_ to protect their agents; she could upgrade later, once she had successfully made her case to the friends that outranked her.

Right now, she was working on the problem of power.

For the various tech that she wanted to install, this suit would require a _lot_ of power. But, for the suit to be functional in the way she needed it to be, it couldn’t be bulky or heavy. That left the conundrum of keeping the tech large enough to be effective and yet small enough to suit her needs.

Angela was tapping her pencil against the desk, staring at the equations she had scribbled, when the infirmary door opened. Her hand stilled, and she looked up in surprise; today, of all days, she didn’t expect anyone to come to the infirmary – or the basement, in general – at all. Her free hand rose to push a lock of hair that had escaped her loose bun as she watched Gabriel Reyes stalk across the infirmary.

He didn’t appear to be injured, so she could only imagine one reason for his appearance. She quickly shifted the notes – for all appearances, it simply looked like she was straightening the chaotic pile – and hid the diagrams from sight. Angela wasn’t quite ready for him to see them.

“What are you _doing_ down here?” Gabriel asked as he closed the last few feet between them. Angela leaned back, crossing her arms and arching one brow.

“I am working, Gabriel.” Obviously. Why else would she be in the infirmary, dressed in scrubs and with notes scattered before her? Considering he – and their other two friends – dragged her out of the basement most days, he was more than aware of what she was doing.

“But it’s _Christmas_.” He sounded so indignant that Angela almost laughed. It wasn’t like the world stopped just because there was a religious holiday. Many staff across the organization had been taking leave – it had started in November and would probably stretch into January – so that they could spend some of the holidays with loved ones. Angela didn’t begrudge them their time off, but that didn’t mean the infirmary could just _close_.

While most of the staff within the Zürich base celebrated Christmas, she knew there were plenty that did not celebrate for one reason or another – like herself. Those were the ones who were covering the necessary positions today. As there was nothing so pressing that one day couldn’t be spared, Angela had allowed her research staff to take the day off. Considering that the majority of the injuries the Zürich base handled were from training, Angela was sure she could handle the infirmary alone – so she had given her medical staff, in Zürich at least, to take the day off as well.

If she couldn’t – for whatever reason – Angela could always call any of the medical staff that were still in the base. Just because they had the day off didn’t mean that they were off-site; various small parties were going on all across the base for those stuck in Zürich. Later in the evening, there would be a large party, spanning several hours so that everyone could attend while also ensuring all positions were manned the entire time.

Her friends had told her – more times than she could count – that they expected her to be there, so she had planned the day appropriately. However, according to the clock on the wall, she still had hours before she needed to head upstairs.

“Not everyone celebrates Christmas, Gabriel.” It had been years since she had celebrated the holiday herself; it was hard to celebrate when there was no one to celebrate with.

“Wait,” Gabriel looked a little sheepish, “you don’t celebrate Christmas?” Angela shook her head. “My bad,” he held his hands up as if surrendering, “I just assumed… Anyway, what do _you_ celebrate, then?” It was a rather pointed question, but the genuine curiosity had her answering despite how uncomfortable she found the subject.

“I don’t.” He looked astonished, as if the fact that Dr. Angela Ziegler _didn’t_ take time off from work was somehow a surprise. “I don’t celebrate any holiday.” She shrugged. “I usually work.” Angela glanced back down towards her papers. “Besides, someone has to run the infirmary.”

“Yeah, but you work too much as it is,” he huffed, still reeling from her declaration. “You couldn’t take _one_ day off?”

“And make someone _else_ work on Christmas?” She asked, one eyebrow arched. As Angela expected, he didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. The doctor sighed. “This is not the first time I have worked on Christmas, Gabriel.” It wouldn’t be the last time, either – but that was a discussion for another time. The Commander looked down at her incredulously.

“Do you even _know_ how to take a break?” He demanded.

“Of _course_ I do.” She retorted defensively. Knowing how to do something and _actually_ doing it were two totally different things.

“When was the last day you _didn’t_ work?” Angela opened her mouth before pausing. She couldn’t remember the last day she hadn’t done _anything_ work-related – couldn’t even remember the last time she had spent the majority of a day _not_ working. She always told herself that there would be time to rest later; it seemed that, so far, ‘later’ hadn’t come.

“That’s what I thought,” Gabriel said smugly into her silence. Angela huffed; so she was dedicated to her work. There was nothing wrong with that! Look at all the good she had done with the extra time.

Angela knew that her habits were unhealthy, but she couldn’t stop. Stopping meant that every death that had come before meant _nothing_ , and that was reprehensible. Every time she stopped, people _died_.

At eight, Angela had lost her parents. They volunteered every other day at the hospital – but she had been sick enough that they both had skipped to stay home with her. The very next day – the day they would have been home, had she not been sick – they had gone to the hospital and had died with all the others in a catastrophic airstrike.

She had experienced loss again at seventeen. She had come home on winter break to visit her grandparents for the holidays. Once it was over, they had driven her to the airport so that she could return for the spring term. It was on the way home that they had been struck and killed by another vehicle; she wasn’t even in the country when she found out they had died – that she was suddenly alone in the world.

She had learned her lesson; to stop, to _rest_ , was to put everyone around her in jeopardy.

“Angela?” Gabriel’s cautious voice pulled her back to the infirmary, and she blinked. Based on the look on his face, her grief – still crippling, even after all this time – had shown on her face. “Are you alright?” Angela rubbed one hand over her face, grateful to find it dry, before giving him a shaky smile.

She tried to avoid thinking of her family as often as possible. It was only on major occasions – holidays and familial birthdays – that she couldn’t help but think of them, though, usually, she was in private when the emotions overwhelmed her. Being a prodigal genius had kept people at bay – it was intimidating, which allowed her to avoid the uncomfortable personal questions.

This was the first Christmas in years that she wasn’t inordinately busy – emergency rooms across the world would be bustling around now, even if this Overwatch infirmary wasn’t. She had been making up for it with her personal project, but Gabriel’s pointed, personal attack had yanked the thoughts to the front. Angela cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“I am okay, Gabriel.” Her voice was unsteady, even to her ears. Angela usually could mask her emotions, but not even she could hide herself away when she felt so strongly.

“You don’t look alright.” Angela glanced away from him, fixating on the papers stacked on the desk once more. They were a refuge for her on this emotionally taxing day.

“I need to get back to work,” she deflected instead. If she worked, she would stop thinking about _them_. She could keep her focus and, hopefully, mentally prepare herself for the party she was expected to attend. Before so many prying eyes, her mask would have to be _perfect_. Angela saw him shift uncomfortably in her peripherals.

“I’m sorry, Angela.” The blonde looked up, surprised. She didn’t expect an apology – didn’t need one, in fact.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Gabriel.” If anyone should be apologizing, it should be _her_. She hadn’t confided in him, despite his offers to listen, so how could he know how the holidays affected her? He didn’t know how _badly_ she had to work, how Angela was horribly driven to protect everyone around her so she wouldn’t lose anyone else, because she hadn’t told him.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” And there it was again. The camaraderie he offered was so tempting, but she knew it was dangerous. All it would take was saying the wrong thing, and that would be it. If she explained her drive – her _weakness_ – he would convince the others to get rid of her, and she couldn’t risk that. There was too much she had left to do.

“This time of year is… hard, that’s all.” Angela offered eventually with a weak shrug, ducking her head so that she didn’t have to look up at his face. She didn’t want his pity – honestly, she didn’t want _anything_ except to get back to work so that she could shove everything else into the background

“Alright,” he said eventually, when it was obvious she was finished speaking. “I’ll let you get back to work, then.” Gabriel paused briefly. “Should one of us come get you for dinner?” Angela wasn’t sure if he was offering because he thought she would purposefully skip out or if he thought she would lose track of time.

“Yeah,” Angela agreed after a moment of consideration, “that would be nice.” Walking with any of them would draw attention, but maybe their eyes would stay on them and off of her – which would only make keeping her mask in place that much easier.

\---

Just before five, Dr. Novák - the man who would be taking her place - wandered into the infirmary. At his entrance, Angela gathered up her papers with more care than the haphazard stack she had managed when Gabriel had appeared.

“Thank you for offering your time this evening, doctor.” Angela greeted as she rose with the sheaf of papers in her hands.

“It is nothing, Dr. Ziegler.” He said with a shake of his head. “You have watched the infirmary all day; it is my pleasure to relieve you.” She kept herself from wincing at the slight censure in his voice – by now, all of her staff were well aware of how much she worked. Even today – ‘on _Christmas_ ’ as Gabriel had put it – she had been at work since just after seven in the morning, which was her usual reporting time. If it _weren’t_ a holiday – and even then, if she had her way – she would probably work until late in the evening.

“Well, if you need _anything_ , please don’t hesitate to reach out.” Angela insisted. “I’m still on call for the rest of the night.” His only response was to sigh at her. Still, she knew that if there were any problems, he would call her – not that either of them expected any kind of trouble to roll into this infirmary.

Angela left the infirmary under his care and made her way quickly to her office so that she could dump her notes in a pile on her desk. Then she headed to the elevator, intending to wait there until whoever was planning to escort her appeared.

She didn’t have to wait long – mere minutes after she arrived in the elevator bay, one opened to reveal Ana in a lovely green dress. Angela paused; she couldn’t remember a time she _hadn’t_ seen Ana in her uniform blues. Ana took one look at Angela and shook her head.

“Well, we can’t have you attend the party in _those_.” Ana’s gently teasing tone took the bite out of the words as Angela looked down at herself. Her attire was perfectly acceptable for the basement – a set of blue scrubs and black tennis shoes – but definitely did not pair well with Ana's outfit. The doctor sighed.

“I suppose I will have to change, then.” She already hated this party, and she hadn’t even _arrived_. Ana chuckled as the dismayed doctor joined her in the elevator. They made idle chit chat about a recent strike mission sent out as they rose to the eighth floor; it wasn’t long before Angela pushed open her door and gesturing for Ana to join her inside.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” She tossed over one shoulder as she disappeared into her bedroom. Once she closed the door, Angela sighed again before beginning to rifle through her closet. Fortunately, before Overwatch, she had needed formal attire; if she hadn’t, Angela wouldn’t have had _anything_ suitable to wear.

Her hands landed on a white dress, which she passed after a moment of consideration. Instead, she chose a navy blue, empire waist gown and began yanking off her scrubs. Angela managed to zip herself into the dress without Ana’s help before turning to stalk barefoot into her bathroom so she could look herself over. Angela adjusted the dress so that the sweetheart neckline sat properly and untwisted the halter strap that wound behind her neck.

Then she pulled out what little makeup she owned; there was no need for it in an operating room or a research lab, after all. She wasn’t capable of anything fancy, considering that she had spent her time researching other topics. Still, she managed a natural look with her minimal options that brought some color to her pale cheeks and highlighted her eyes.

Her hair went up into a French twist, and then she was back in her closet to find her black heels. They were comfortable enough, considering she wore them on occasion to work. Finally, Angela’s eyes landed on her small jewelry box that sat on her dresser. She hesitated, then opened the small container to reveal the few pieces she owned – all passed down to her from her family.

Her fingers brushed the chains and jewels almost reverently before she pulled out a small diamond pendant on a silver chain and matching earrings. These had been a set her father had gifted her mother on their fifth anniversary. Angela forced the memories and thoughts to the background before they could appear on her face; she had to be _perfect_ for the next few hours. She could remember later.

Suitably dressed, Angela exited her bedroom to find Ana seated primly on her loveseat. Angela felt slightly a little guilty. There wasn’t anything to entertain a guest in her rooms, considering she didn’t _do_ any entertaining – or, really, anything at _all_ in her rooms besides the necessities. But, if Ana was bothered by the lack of entertainment, she certainly didn’t show it. Instead, she rose and looked Angela over appraisingly.

“You look beautiful, my dear.” Ana complimented, turning to the door before the doctor could respond. Angela dutifully followed the sniper through the base to the administrative canteen. Typically, it was filled with rows of tables and chairs large enough to fit a small army. Most of those tables were now absent, but she spotted a few shoved against the walls and scattered throughout the room.

Tasteful decorations were hanging from the walls and placed on the tables, while a large tree dominated a back corner of the room. Angela could hear some quiet music – classical and not holiday, thank goodness – playing as Ana dragged her through the crowded space. Eventually, they arrived at the far side of the room, where Jack, Gabriel, and a few other high ranking people – she recognized Sojourn but couldn’t recall most of the rest of the people there – were assembled.

“Ana; Angela!” Jack beamed when he spotted them, drawing all surrounding eyes to the two women briefly. “I’m glad you could join us.” As if she had been given the choice to decline. Which, she _had_ tried – and had been shot down. Gabriel, always at Jack’s side, set down his drink to scoop up two glasses of what appeared to be wine.

“Ladies,” he greeted before holding out the drinks to them.

“Charming as ever, Gabriel,” Ana chuckled before taking the glass. Angela simply smiled and accepted the drink with a murmured thanks, though she wasn’t certain she wanted it. It wasn’t often she drank – usually it was by herself, after a taxing day, though sometimes she had in social situations like this. Angela wasn’t a fan of the loose, out of control feeling alcohol gave her – and that decided her. She couldn’t afford to let the tight grip on her emotions fail, not before all these people.

It _was_ Christmas, after all.

Angela raised her glass to her lips to take a tiny sip as she glanced around the small crowd of people. She wanted to retreat to the nearby wall, but it wouldn’t do to appear to be hiding. Angela only knew only a small number of the people around her – and that was mostly through her medical research than any personal connection. The four people she _did_ know were engrossed in their own conversations.

Ana had joined Jack and Sojourn; from what Angela could tell, they were talking about a Christmas mission long in the past. She hovered nearby, but she wasn’t part of the conversation – which let her eyes, and mind, wander.

None of her staff were in this part of the room, though she had seen a few when Ana had practically dragged her through the crowd. Still, aside from Gloria, Angela would have been surprised to see any of them in this grouping of leaders.

Gabriel had returned to his drink, but he had turned to speak quietly to a dark-haired man that Angela didn’t recognize. She glanced away before they noticed her staring. Angela needed to find a distraction from the lights and the tree, symbols of a holiday she had stopped celebrating long ago because it _hurt_ , before everyone could see the grief that she had accidentally revealed to Gabriel.

“Angela.” Gabriel’s voice had her turning; apparently, she _had_ been caught despite her efforts. She crossed the small distance between them so that he didn’t have to raise his voice. “Have you met Gérard?” Her eyes moved from the Commander to the man at his side; his name was vaguely familiar – but considering how many agent files she reviewed weekly, that wasn’t exactly surprising.

“No, we have not met.” Angela shifted her drink to her opposite hand so that she could reach out to shake his hand. “I am Dr. Angela Ziegler,” she offered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Angela wondered what this man did that he was included in this part of the room. 

“Gérard Lacroix,” the man replied coolly, taking her hand firmly. “The pleasure is all mine, doctor.” She smiled slightly as she returned her hand to her side.

“Gérard here leads our anti-Talon division.” Gabriel told Angela; the doctor nodded. She remembered the man, now that she had his full name and division. Angela felt a little foolish, having not recognized him sooner.

“You were in my infirmary recently, if I recall correctly.” He hadn’t been on a mission, but somehow he had ended up with a knife wound in the abdomen about two weeks ago. One of her staff had handled his case. Angela had been working in the research labs, as was her norm – but she had read about it in their daily report.

“You have a good memory, doctor.” Gérard said with some surprise, one hand rising absently to press against where the wound must have been. Considering Angela hadn’t met him and it had happened weeks ago, she didn’t blame him. She smiled up at the man.

“It is simply one of my duties.” Angela might not have remembered if Gérard wasn’t an essential player in Overwatch. She tried to stay apprised of those people – had, in fact, created a separate filing system for these leaders. Gérard Lacroix’s file sat between Jack’s and Gabriel’s, readily available for her just in case.

“Angela takes her job very seriously,” Gabriel explained to the agent, voice slightly teasing. She rolled her eyes and lifted her glass to her lips to keep from having to respond, though she only took a small sip.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard rumors about that.” Gérard joined in on the gentle teasing, though his eyes watched her face heavily – probably for any sign that she found his words either upsetting or just generally unacceptable.

“Overwatch doesn’t pay me to sleep.” Angela defended without heat. A small, smug smile crossed her face as she glanced towards Gabriel. “I’m on call tonight, in fact.” The Commander just sighed.

“Of course you are.” He deadpanned back as Gérard laughed.

\---

Finally, Jack had called for speeches. She had been waiting for over an hour for this. As soon as they were done, she could make her excuses and go to her rooms – or the labs. Gabriel and Ana had taken their places at Jacks’ flanks, while a few others hovered nearby. Of course there would be multiple speakers; this party really _was_ horrible.

For all his flaws, Jack was a great orator. He had the room enraptured as he quipped about some mishap from a previous party. As he segued into thanking the staff who were still present in the base, who had to sacrifice time with their loved ones to be here, she realized what a _horrible_ idea it was for her to stay.

But she couldn’t just _leave_ in the middle of his speech. He was a Commander of Overwatch; to leave while he was speaking was a far more disrespectful statement than she wanted to make. Instead, she forced her face into her well-practiced calm mask as she wrestled her emotions and memories back down. All she needed was a few more minutes, and then she could escape. She could – _would_ – manage it.

As soon as Jack finished, Angela clapped politely with the rest and began gently winding her way towards a door. She didn’t care where it led, as long as it was _out_. She barely remembered to pause so that she could abandon the glass of wine on a table. A quick glance over her shoulder showed that it wasn’t Ana or Gabriel speaking next – Angela couldn’t leave if they were talking, either – and then the blonde was pushing through a door and into a hallway. She paused there briefly, taking in a few gulps of air as she calmed herself, before continuing.

Angela had never been in this hallway, but that didn’t matter. She had a vague idea of where she was in the base, which meant she could _probably_ find her way to the elevators without much issue. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving without saying anything to her friends, but she could make her apologies later.

It took her a few minutes of wandering around rather aimlessly, but eventually she found the elevator bay. Angela had debated with herself the whole way – while continuing to studiously ignore the memories that were slowly wearing against her – and had decided that she would return to her office. She knew it would be impossible for her to find sleep tonight, as it was for a handful of other nights in the year. Since she would be awake, she might as well make the most of the time.

Angela didn’t even bother to return to her rooms to change; she didn’t intend to do anything that could damage the dress – and even if she did, it was replaceable. It took nearly no time at all to reach her office. Once she was settled inside, she kicked off her heels and let her hair down in a bid to get more comfortable. Finding her focus took longer than usual, but eventually she was engrossed in her notes once more.

\---

“I really hoped I wouldn’t find you here.” Angela jumped, startled; she hadn’t even heard the door open.

“I thought you were supposed to be at a party?” Angela retorted without looking back. She had done as requested: she had attended the party until the speeches and then she had left. What she did with the rest of her time – on _Christmas_ – was her own business.

“It’s pretty much over, seeing how it’s nearly ten.” She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Angela glanced over her shoulder to watch Gabriel close her office door and make himself comfortable on the couch. “Seeing how you escaped hours ago, I had _hoped_ you had gone to bed.” She rolled her eyes as she turned the chair to completely face him.

“I do not like parties – and I wasn’t tired.” Angela didn’t know why she had to explain herself to him. If everyone _else_ could do as they liked on this holiday, she didn’t see why she couldn’t either. “This is a better use of my time.”

“Seriously?” Angela simply raised one eyebrow at his tone and leaned back in her chair. “You really can’t stop working for twelve hours, can you?” She _could_ , but tonight was not one of those times.

“I have to work,” Angela insisted instead. He didn’t understand it – but how could he? Gabriel went into the field, again and again, to end lives without a second thought. Meanwhile, she desperately tried to put the bodies back together and was haunted when she failed.

“No, you don’t.” He retorted. “We didn’t bring you on so that you could work yourself to death.” Angela winced at the rebuke but stood her ground.

“This is _exactly_ what you hired me for. I have always worked this way.” How in the world did he _think_ she had made it as far in life as she had? She was only twenty-two, and _she_ was the medical authority for Overwatch. She had been the one to develop groundbreaking technology almost two years ago.

“Why did you leave the party so early?” He demanded instead, switching gears. Angela gritted her teeth; she should have just taken her notes to her rooms. If she had, she would have avoided this conversation altogether.

“I _told_ you – I do not like parties. I was only asked to stay until the speeches; once they began, I was free to leave.” It was a technicality, but one that worked in her favor.

“Seriously?” Gabriel asked incredulously. “You couldn’t have waited another fifteen minutes to say goodnight?” Stand through fifteen more minutes of emotional turmoil? No, thank you.

“No, I could not,” Angela replied coolly. Gabriel leaned back, one hand on his chin as he considered her. He had heard the pure truth in her voice and clearly didn’t know what to do in the face of it. After a moment, Angela turned away again to write once more, unable to tolerate the silence.

“Is this about earlier?” Angela tensed, head ducking down a little further as she continued to write. She didn’t want to talk about this – not today. Not _any_ day, but _especially_ not today. “Angela, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean–”

“Stop, Gabriel.” She interrupted, her voice taut and quiet. “Please.” Angela couldn’t listen to him apologize for something he had _nothing_ to do with, stumbling around with his words until he knocked over something fragile within her.

Silence fell between the two of them, heavy and uncomfortable. The sound of her pencil on paper was the only noise in the room for a long time – far longer than she had anticipated. She hadn’t expected him to remain silent, to _stay_ when it was obvious she wanted to be alone. When she couldn’t bear the silence – the unknowing – any longer, she turned to look at him.

“What are you _doing_?” Angela demanded, voice shrill even to her ears.

“Getting comfortable.” Gabriel had laid out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes to block the light. He was a little too large for the couch, so his feet were dangling over one side. When she remained silent – more out of confusion than anything else – he peered out from under the arm at her. “You’re gonna be here a while, right?”

“I – yes, but–” Angela stammered before taking a breath and starting again. “Why are you lying on my couch?”

“I’m keeping you company.” He said it so confidently – as if it were the most obvious thing in the world – that she was left speechless.

“I do not need company,” was Angela’s weak reply, delivered long after it should have been. All she wanted was to bury herself in her work until the only thing she could think of was equations and algorithms; she wanted to forget _everything_. It would be hard to do either with him lounging on her couch barely five feet away.

“I think you do.” Gabriel had covered his eyes again, but she could imagine his heavy look – it was the one he always adopted when he offered to listen to her troubles. Angela worried at her lip. She couldn’t _make_ him leave, and she doubted he would let her leave with her notes. Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind; without her work, she would be plagued by the memories and emotions that she always struggled with at this time of year.

Eventually, she turned back to her notes – but, even though she knew his eyes were hidden, she could feel his gaze burning into her back. It gnawed at her and made it impossible to focus. Angela knew that was the point, _knew_ that he was just trying to get under her skin. Any other night, it probably wouldn’t have worked – she, too, could be patient when necessary – but tonight was different. She sighed and set down the pencil, though she didn’t – couldn’t – turn to look at him.

“This is the sixth Christmas I have not celebrated.” Angela offered into the oppressive silence. She could give him a little, just enough to satisfy him and make him go away.

“Why is that?” His voice was gravely, almost like he had been near sleep when she had spoken. Angela doubted that, even had he fallen asleep, she could have slipped out with her notes to work alone in her rooms.

“Christmas is a holiday for friends and family,” Angela explained, finally. “It is hard to celebrate without either.” Even Angela could hear the bitterness in her voice.

“We’re friends,” Gabriel told her, confidently, before adding on a more doubtful, “aren’t we?”

“We are.” Angela agreed automatically, before pausing. Until Overwatch, she hadn’t made any friends – she had accelerated through school too quickly to maintain any kind of friendship. When her grandparents had died, that had ended any reason for celebration.

But now, here with Overwatch, were new people to spend the holiday with.

“So,” Gabriel interrupted her train of thought, “why are you working alone instead of spending it with us?” He let her think about the question, waiting her out again patiently as she considered her answer.

“I–” Angela paused, uncertain. The general unhappiness and pain that the season always sparked were present, of course – but she hadn’t even _considered_ spending time with her new friends. She had become so used to Christmas just being another day that it hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Angela didn’t know if she could spend Christmas with people and be _normal_ – but she hadn’t even tried.

“I didn’t realize I could.” She admitted eventually, finally turning to look at him. He had sat up at some point during their conversation; if she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he’d been upright the whole time. Then, she had another realization.

“I didn’t get you – or Jack or Ana – a gift.” Angela was dismayed. It was the first big occasion they had as friends, and she was already failing.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to get us anything – don’t worry about it.” Gabriel immediately assured her, but of _course_ she was going to worry about it. Now she had three things to apologize for.

“But – that’s what friends _do_ , right?” She had wanted a distraction from her memories and had gotten one – though she doubted _this_ was what Gabriel had intended when he’d laid out on her couch. “Friends spend time together on Christmas and exchange gifts. I’m a _terrible_ friend.” Gabriel laughed, which made her even _more_ indignant – which made him laugh harder.

“You’re completely overthinking it, Angela.” He told her once he’d smothered his laughter. “I’m pretty sure we’re the ones who decide if you’re a bad friend, after all.” Angela supposed that was true – but it didn’t really make her feel any better.

“Besides, you’re in luck.” Angela looked at him in confusion as he rose. “It’s still Christmas – so you still have time to spend with your friends.” She glanced up at the clock dubiously, which showed that it was eleven. He opened the door and glanced back at her. “Are you coming?”

Now that she realized there was a different option, did she _really_ want to spend the time alone? That was how she had spent her last five Christmases, and it hadn’t changed anything. Maybe here – now – that _could_ change.

“Yes, just give me a moment.” Angela leaned down to pull her heels back on before following him out the door. When they entered the elevator, he pressed the button for the eighth floor. Angela looked up at him in suspicion – was he trying to trick her into going to bed? She didn’t know why he’d bother; she could always sneak back down.

“Normally, there’s more of us,” Gabriel explained, “but terrorists don’t seem to care about holidays.” Angela nodded slowly. “So, it’s just me, Jack, and Ana – and you – this year.” The elevator door opened, and he led her to the left – the opposite direction of her rooms. “Jack offered to host our gathering instead of finding space downstairs.” Gabriel stopped them so that he could knock on one of the doors.

“You certainly took your time, Gabe,” Jack grumbled good-naturedly as he pulled the door open. “Ana and I thought you weren’t showing up.”

“Sorry; you know how stubborn Angela can be,” Gabriel told him, stepping aside so that Jack could see Angela. Jack seemed surprised, but it quickly turned to pleasure.

“Of course I do,” Jack agreed, grinning past him at Angela. “Ana,” he called over his shoulder as he let the two enter, “grab another glass for Angela, would you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Early Merry Christmas [or Happy Holidays, for those who do not celebrate] to all of you! I know it's Christmas Eve [at least, it is for me] but I won't have access to my computer of Christmas Day. So, as my present to you, I give you this oneshot. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> I've created a tumblr [thebrighteye], where I've posted an image that shows what I imagine Angela's outfit to look like. I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to tumblr, so it may crash and burn, but I wanted to be able to share it with you.
> 
> I will still be posting somewhere around January 1; this is just a little something extra for all of you.


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